


This too shall pass

by Thewifeofkingmidas



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Underfell Grillby (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-09-06 17:39:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 15,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16837300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thewifeofkingmidas/pseuds/Thewifeofkingmidas
Summary: Red's been sinking his whole life, but lately it's become even harder to stay afloat.He's never been someone to ask for help, But when help comes will he accept it?A Fic about the nature of abuse.Please take care of yourself and proceed with caution.Underfell Paps is not a good guyand this was not written by a mentally healthy individual.





	1. I fucked up

Red sat on his usual stool at Grillby's. Slumped face down over the bar he listened silently to the incoherant Mess of half heard shouted conversation and Loud abrasive music and contemplated how much trouble he was going to be in when he got home.  
It had started with a couple of drinks after his last shift, quickly followed by several more and somewhere along the way he had gotten too drunk to lift his head.  
He turned his head so his cheekbone was resting against the sticky bar and stared vacantly ahead of him, watching the hypnotic way condensation gathered on the edges of his half empty glass of whisky. The half melted icecubes danced with light. The world was spinning, he wanted a ciggerette but diddn't trust himself to move, was pretty sure if he tried he'd vomit.  
"you ok there Sans"  
Grillbys voice rang out, hes pretty sure it must have been low and quiet, but it ran straight through him like a chiming bell.  
"mmm"  
Red scrunches his eyesockets shut, frowning.  
Why cant everyone just shut up. He needs quiet, he needs time to think, to sober up enough to walk home or...  
Hes fucked, If boss has to come get him hes fucked. Why did he do this, hes such a fucking idiot, self destructive idiot mess.  
He berates himself relentlessly, thoughts coming slow and heavy and tinged with a creeping panic. He tries to draw himself up but only shifts so hes half propped up, forehead resting on the edge of the bar staring into his lap.  
"fuck him"  
he says alloud to no-one, fumbling in his pocket for a ciggerette, After a while of searching he draws out the pack.  
Success.  
before he can bring the ciggerette to his mouth his clumsy hands snap it in two. Red groans and tosses it to the floor Trying again to wrestle with the pack. after a while of struggling Grillbys hand moves into his line of vision and gently takes the pack from him pulling out a ciggerette and placing it between his teeth and lights it with the tip of his fingers.  
Sans takes in a long drag, sighing in relief  
"Fuck who?"  
grillby asks  
"mind yer business"  
Sans grunts, his skull pressing into the bar He stares at the hardwood floors stained with drinks and a plethora of other shit. the broken ciggerette stares back at him, sadly.  
He takes another long drag on the one in his mouth and watches the smoke rise around him. grillby doesnt respond to that.  
"whassa time?"  
"9:36"  
Yep, he was fucked. He gazes down unfocusingly watching the little silver tag on his collar dangle  
"property of papyrus"  
he reads aloud to himself slurring in a quiet sing song voice then lets out a laugh, The words seem funny to him. He can feel grillbys discomfort from here.  
Fuck him, its true everyone knows it, why shouldnt he say it. property of papyrus thats what he is. Speaking of which he feels a draft of cold air as the door swings open.  
shit shit shit shit shit shit  
he squeezes his sockets shut as fear floods him  
papyrus is here, papyrus had to come and pick him up. hes dead he's dead he's dead  
"couple of beers g-man"  
oh thank the stars its just that smug shit-stain jerry.

Red thinks about his next course of action. He's drunk, He's late.., Hes fucked. Papyrus is gonna be pissed.  
heh, pissed papyrus.

He was too drunk to walk back he knew that but maybe he'd be in less trouble if he atleast tried to get home.  
If boss had to come and collect him, that'd be an embarassment, people would talk, say prehaps the Head of the Guard isn't as tough as everyone says, can't even stop his own brother from causing a scene.  
sometimes he wonders why boss even lets him come here.  
Maybe he wants him to fuck up.  
Well, if thats true hes certainly got what he wanted.  
He slowly pushes himself to his feet swaying slightly, trying to push down the wave of nausea and disorientation he steps forward and stumbles. Grillbys next to him again, catching him by the arm before he can fall. "you ok to get home?" He asks too quietly for anyone else to hear, probably trying to protect his pride.  
the idea that sans has pride is the best joke he's ever heard.  
Grillbys still holding onto his upper arm trying to meet his eye, staring at him with something that feels a little too close to compassion.  
San's feels a wave of irritation, he feels suffocated by this bar, and that look.  
He feels the warmth radiating from grillbys hand and is overcome with the desire to shove him.  
Its not the way of the underground, this touchy feely bullshit, who cares if hes allright to get home. he doesn't want this, doesnt need his help or his pity, maybe some monsters still looked out for their family or close loved ones but he wasnt either of those things to grillby. Boss looked out for him, thats it. everyone else kept their distance, and for good reason.  
He roughly pulls his arm from grillbys arm and glares at him.  
"Careful there grillbz' don't wanna go getting yourself into trouble"  
Grillby looks taken aback and opens his mouth as if to say something, but sans isnt listning  
He turns heel and staggers out of the bar swinging the door open and pushing himself into the freezing night air, not looking back.


	2. I really fucked up

Sans makes it nearly half way home before he collapses onto his hands and knees, vomiting a stream of bitter blue ectoplasm onto the pristine white snow infront of him.   
He's sick, violently and seemingly unendingly untill his throat is raw and his soul is clenching. Painfully he dry heaves a few more times tears running from his sockets until he's sure he's done then he rolls over and lies on his back.   
He stares up at the endlessly black ceiling, freezing snow melting beneath him soaking his clothes. Little white flakes gracefully drift down to earth to rest on him and the ground around him. Red feels them melting on his cheekbones and imagines laying here, still, untill the snow buries him. everything stinks of vomit, there's an ache in his kneecap where he fell and hes pretty sure its bleeding. The air is still and icy.  
He feels better now, after throwing up. If he could just lay here for a little while, maybe he'd be sober enough to get home, maybe he wont be too late, Maybe boss will be in one of his rare good moods, anythings possible.   
Red lays there for a while thinking of nothing untill he hears somewhere in the distance the steady crunching of approaching footsteps in the snow.  
he sits up so fast he feels his head pound and spin and stares around wildly before he sees the approaching figure.   
Its too dark to see any defining features.   
But he knows.  
That imposing silouette That steady stiff snapping walk, getting closer every step, the clinking of his amour.  
Sans could recognise him a mile away, It's Boss.  
He quickly gets up allmost launching himself onto unsteady feet. The dread hes been trying to squash all night suddenly hits him like a sack of bricks to the sternum, an uncomfortably real fear settles somewhere deep in his soul. Not much scared red, he took pride in his ability to take a punch and come up fighting. But one look at his brothers face makes him want to drop to his knees and bawl like a little kid.   
After what feels like an age Boss reaches him, And ooooh boy does he look Mad.  
Everything about him tight and rigid. His gloved hands squeezed into tight fists by his side his grinning jaw tight. His face in shadow, eyelights tiny little pinpricks in black endless sockets he towers over Red.  
Sans could swear he blocked out the whole sky.  
"H-hey B-b-boss I was Just on M-my way back and, I uh.."  
He trails off half way through speaking   
Boss is glaring at him, looking Positively livid.   
Papyrus says nothing for a while. he looks him up and down, his eyes black. taking in the soaking clothes, the vomit on his coat and shoes, the bleeding gash on his kneecap.  
He gives a tight little smile.  
"Home. Now"


	3. Papyrus Is Pissed

It was a very quiet walk home.  
Red trailed behind by a few steps, eyes to the ground. A good portion of the residents in Snowdin tended to stay inside after nightfall, It was just common sense.  
There was an icy chill in the still night air and the street lamps threw a harsh ugly yellow light onto the frozen pavement and houses around them, But It did little to combat the kind of black darkness you get in the underground.  
Walking through town he saw houses with boarded up windows, shops with metal shutters pulled down. Litter was scattered across the floor, some of it half buried with snow. It was hard to imagine anyone really lived here.  
It was silent, but for the steady crunching of two sets of footsteps in the snow.  
and the silence coming from Papyrus was deafening  
Here we go again.  
He does this to himself.  
Why does he do this to himself.  
He tried to imagine he was a solid brick wall, hard, unfeeling, immoveable.  
He just has to get through tonight, get through tonight, thats all.  
Boss'll calm down eventually, just like he allways does, Can't stay angry forever. Red just has to ride this out and then he'll be warm in his bed. he knows how to calm him down, how to give the right responses, de-escalate things. He's good at it, real good, lots of practice.  
he supposes he knows papryrus too, as much as you can know a monster like him.  
Red stares at the back of papyrus's head as he walks, his ridged back, the perpousful, robotic way in which he briskly strides ahead of him, and he knows, knows what hes walking toward. As soon as that door closes behind them He's getting the shit kicked out of him.  
He hates him sometimes, Imagines fighting back, punching and Biting and spitting at him laughing in his face when he lectures and bullies and threatens. Telling him "FUCK YOU"  
Not that he'd ever got the balls to do it, not anytime recently anyway.  
Other times he hates himself. For winding Boss up like this. letting him down all the time, For not being able to touch anything without turning it to shit.  
Right now he just feels very tired.  
When They arrive home, the first thing papyrus does is go to lock the door, He turns the key in the lock then then goes to draw the curtains, Humming a manic little tune.  
Sans kicks off his shoes and stands by the door, Waiting.  
alone at last.  
Boss turns and walks towards him perpousfully, expression unreadable.  
Sans' tries not to flinch.  
Without warning He lunges forward, grabbing him and bodily slamming him against the wall, hands around his throat so that his feet are nearly pulled off the ground  
sans tries to choke out plea's and apologies but his brothers fingerbones are too tight around his neck.  
Paps can get a little carried away is all.  
The hands tightens.  
"I work hard sans"  
He's spitting mad  
"keeping us protected, Keeping us fed"  
His face is a inch from sans'  
"nobody else would have you nobody else would let you live in their home, eat their food.  
Give you that pathetic sentry position."  
Sans clings to papyrus's jacket desperate for something to hold on to, his other hand clasping boss's wrist, but he doesnt try to pull the hand from his throat.  
"everything you have you have because of me.'  
He tries to focus on staying conscious  
"so after a 'Hard days work'  
He can feel papyruses breath on his face.  
"you can imagine my distaste at having to chase down a worthless little nothing like you."  
his voice drops to a low hiss he squeezes bruisingly tightly one last time then lets go. red slides down the wall coughing and gasping, throat raw.  
"s-sorry Boss, sorry, Please I wont- " he wheezes kneeling doubled over.  
Before Sans can finish his sentence papyrus swings back his heavy boot and kicks him in the face, hard.  
San's head swings back connecting with the wall behind him with a sickening crack.  
There's ringing in his ears and it takes a moment for him to come round before an agony blossoms from his cheekbone to his jaw, he puts his hands to his face and they come away wet with blood. he lets out a tired broken sob  
"How do you think it looks for me, the captain of the royal guard, to be associated with someone, someTHING like you, a pathetic drunk who hangs around in shithole bars with shithole people"  
"I'm sorry"  
Boss narrows his eyes, crouching next to him and clasping sans by the jaw, he turns his head to face him.  
"you think me foolish"  
"No! never"  
papryrus eyes bore into him before he finally releases his jaw and stands.  
"everything I've done for you, You think I'm a fool. That you can make a mockery of me, of what I represent, that you can drain me dry spending MY Hard earned money on feeding your disgusting habit, living in my Home Leaving Your SHIT everywhere.  
He delivers another swift kick to sans ribs.  
Sans yelps and curls in on himself winded, arms trying to protect his head  
"You contribute, nothing"  
he stands over sans where he lies and rests his heavy black boot on sans' wrist bone so his arm's pinned to the floor.  
"you are, nothing"  
Boss brings up his leg and stamps, there's a horrible noise as his wrist fractures.  
Sans screams, an agonised animal wail.  
Stars it hurts.  
He's sure boss is still talking to him, still lecturing, But the words seem to shift and melt into the background. His eyes wont focus. His wrist bones sing with pain.  
When He comes round boss is standing about a foot away from him arms folded, breathing heavy. Hes glaring at sans.  
" Get Out of my sight"  
Sans unsteadily pushes gets to his feet and heads to his room as quickly and as silently as possible. praying the whole way there that papyrus wont suddenly change his mind and call him back.  
The moment he has his back to the door he slides down to a sitting position gasping. Oh stars oh fucking stars it hurts. Hes so dizzy, He's still so drunk, everything's agony After a while of sitting Red finally finds the strength to move. He struggles to get to his feet only using the one hand and climbs into bed fully clothed. Drunk, bone-tired and with the begginings of a concussion, sleep still doesn't come easy.


	4. Tomorrow, and tomorrow and tomorrow.

Sans wakes the next day stiff and in pain, with a hangover that could floor a monster twice his size. He looks at his phone, oh fuck. He slept through all his alarms. He looks around groggily, Papyrus, who would normally be standing over him shouting by now, is nowhere to be seen. He Awkwardly sits up using his good arm.  
Oh stars, mistake MISTAKE.  
crippling nausea overtakes him, His face and the back of his head is in agony and he can only half remember why. The wrist however is a pretty hard one to forget. He can hardly bring himself look at it But when he does he finds himself relieved, there's a lot of dried of blood but hes pretty sure underneath that it's only a hairline fracture.  
The shower he takes that morning is, uncomfortable, Red winces as he carefully wipes the dried blood off his injuries with a cold flannel After he gets out he looks in the mirror.  
Wowie.  
HE looks like shit.  
His entire face is covered in heavy purple bruising, It covers his nasal bridge and there are black rings under both his sockets. Two of his back teeth are chipped, shit, he hoped Boss would Pay to get them Fixed.  
It's Saturday so it's not like he has anywhere to be but his waking up late was one of those things that tended to set Boss off so hes walks downstairs on edge, Steeling himself for something But Papyrus doesn't even seem to notice him enter the room. Hes sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by papers studying a letter, his legs crossed, brow furrowed. His usual mug of unsweetened, decaffinated coffee sits forgotten as he absent-mindedly runs the tip of his fingerbone round and round the rim.  
after a moment he looks up folds the letter quickly and carefully and slots into his front pocket.  
He looks sans over with a distracted irritation.  
"you look terrible"  
"thanks"  
"Sit down"  
"why?"  
"So i can heal you, Idiot."  
Papyrus snaps, taking sans by the sholders and leading him to the chair  
papyrus sits opposite him palms open, looking expectant and a little bit pissed off.  
"hurry up then"  
Sans considers Telling him He'd rather let it heal on its own. That It's personal, and his, and he doesn't want anyone messing with it, but decides against it.  
It isn't worth the strife, better to pick his battles, he summons his soul. 

Papyrus looks it over turning in his hand then begins rubbing small circles over it, channelling his magic into the small softly glowing heart, he worked methodically, with all the passion and enthusiasm of someone repairing a bit of old furniture they never really liked all that much. But Sans can feel him, Papyrus, his magic flooding into him, and struggles to keep his composure, Its euphoric, Terrifying, absolutley overwhelming, Chased by an anxiety so huge he feels all the oxygen has been sucked from the room, hes on fire.  
He takes such deep breaths his chest hurts, and tries to calm down. after a while his breathing evens out and he gets a little more used to the feeling, but not really.  
It's painful, to have papyrus so close to him like this. with everything between them, It hurts to feel his Strength, his weakness, his determination.  
Sans loves him, he cant help it.  
Can't help but feel oddly grateful, knowing Papyrus wouldnt do this for anyone else, wouldnt even think about using healing magic on anyone else.  
Maybe kindness for him has just become the absence of cruelty.  
Its messed up, Its weak, It's pathetic.  
But It's still his brother.  
Boss sees things for what they are, the shit they went through as kids, Has seen the very worst It can get.  
He see's Red too.  
He's maybe the only one who really see's him for who is is. and yeah maybe they, and what they have is fucked up. But they'll be fucked up together.  
He knows papyrus loves him too, in his way. As much as he is capable.  
If love can still exsist in a person who's made it his life long mission to stamp out any and all emotion from within himself and replace it with cool hard control.  
He finds it hard, to stay angry. Knowing somewhere In that raging, empathyless, control freak is the same frightened child thats lived inside him his whole life.  
He can feel it, when he heals him.  
That terrible sameness.  
sometimes sans' thinks even if Leaving was an option he Wouldn't.  
But then again other times he'd have long drawn out fantasies about poisoning his spaghetti.  
He hates him more than he's hated anyone in his life, Hates him the most you can hate a person, and he loves him the same.  
Papyrus pulled back his hand suddenly and sans felt shame wash over him as he found he missed the connection.  
"Done. should be gone in a couple of days At the very most"  
He gets up and Washes his hands in the sink scrubing his fingerbones with washing up liquid and a scouring pad. then dries his hands throughly and sits back down focusing again on his papers, Sipping his cold coffee.  
Sans' feels, just a little humiliated  
"Sans make me a fresh coffee will you. As you weren't up this morning I had to make my own. As if I dont have enough to do, You've left me minutes behind, do you realise how Valuble minutes are to a monster Of my standing?"  
"Y-Yep, on it."  
He doesn't Put a whole lot of effort into making pap's coffee anymore, there's allways something wrong with it whatever He does with it, too weak, too strong, you've burnt it, bla bla bla.  
Part of him thinks papyrus enjoys their strange morning ritual, watching sans desperately trying to make a a cup of coffee that papyrus will actually drink, then watching his face fall when he declares it swill and pours it down the sink.  
This morning though when Red hands him the cup He doesn't even look up from his work, just he drinks it quietly, brow furrowed, he looks tired.  
"what did the letter say?"  
"mind your business."  
Red sits back down  
They sit in silence for a while, papyrus leafing through his paperwork red daydreaming and fiddling with the tag on his t-shirt  
after a while boss Speaks again almost reluctantly  
"It's nothing, nothing for you to concern yourself with anyway...,  
I have been asked for dinner, with the king, tonight."  
"Oh?"  
"There is unrest In the Capital, The people are revolting, The king may  
Want me to move there, to be closer to my position."  
"Oh."  
Oh shit, this was bad. Red knew Snowdin was no holiday destination, but the capital Was something else. The kind of violence that went on there was the kind Red happily could go his whole life without seeing. It really is kill or be killed. Papyrus's reputation wont be enough To protect him there either. Reds one HP, he'll be dust in a week, That's if Boss ever lets him leave the house, which he most certainly wont.  
Red tries very hard not to look horrified.  
"But its fine, Like I said It's none of your concern I've allways been good at twisting the kings arm. And if not... Maybe a change will be... Positive?"  
He talks like he doesn't really believe a thing hes saying.  
"Corse you'll t-talk him round boss"  
Sans' says weakly  
Papyrus sighs.  
"You're right"  
He straightens his back and schools his expression into stoic confidence.  
"I the Great and terrible Papyrus will not be Intimidated. There's a way around this, I can be more present at the capital without uprooting the Life I have here and Moving to that, Rats nest. Now please, go in your room or something, I have a Hundred important things to do and Don't want you getting underfoot"  
"Gotcha Boss"  
He gets up, Yawning, he then starts to trudge up the stairs  
Papyrus calls after him  
"And don't even think about Sleeping all day, I need you later to polish my armour."  
"Yep gotcha boss, I'll be up  
when sans shuts the door to his room he picks up an open lukewarm beer from the floor, and flops down on his Mattress  
he swigs the beer and absentmindedly looks at the crack in his wristbone, It looks a little better, he tries to move his fingers.  
He still can't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know what y'all think, I'm not an experienced writer and any constructive criticism is welcome, But, ya know compliments would be nice too ;) Anything that I can use to attempt to fill the endless black hole of self doubt that lives inside me. xxxx


	5. No drinking.

Around 2pm sans decides to go Look for food. He quietly decends the stairs crosses the house and enters the kitchen. Boss is Crouched down, surrounded by cleaning products. agressively scrubbing the inside of the oven  
He had... Rubber gloves on.  
"SANS this thing is absolutley filthy, I don't know what you did to it, as if I don't have enough to do allready"  
Papyrus is wrist deep in the oven, his head halfway inside. The whole room stinks of oven cleaner.  
Sans is willing to bet he's been disinfecting the whole house.  
"mmhmm. uh, hey Boss, p-please could I go get s-something to eat?"  
"Fine, whatever, NO DRINKING. Just Keep away from me I am VERY BUSY."  
"Sure thing"  
Sans takes one last look at boss then heads out, he takes a deep breath and begins the walk to grillbys. Red likes being outside the house. Feels like he can relax a little, get away from Boss's crazy Fuckin' Behavior. let his Guard down. Which is nuts considering where he is but Snowdins ok. He gets by here. There are worse places. People generally leave him alone, because of papyrus's reputation, and the collar.  
He self conciously pulls up the collar of his coat while he walks.  
He could do with a beer, or six.  
Red enters grillbys.  
"Heeeeyy g-grillb'z ya hot mess, two sh-shots of t-tequila burger and fries, and a pack o' gum to go Please. Come on, I got places to be"  
"How am I gonna get you a shot of tequila to go? that's... "  
Grillby trails off when he looks up at sans and see's the bruising on his face  
"The fuck happened to you?"  
"T-ripped when I was walking home last night"  
"Uhuh, You look terrible"  
"thanks, right back at cha' can I g-get my order now?"  
"Yeah Yeah, relax."  
Grillby ducks behind the bar picking up four cloudy shot glasses  
"you remember much from last night?"  
"heh, p-pretty much a blank, Anything I should know about?"  
"Nah, not really. You were just laying round drinking all day, muttering to yourself like a Fuckin' Weirdo. Then around half nine you jumped up and marched out of here like you had some place to be."  
Grillby places two glasses infront of sans and two infront of himself and starts to fill them with tequila.  
"Huh"  
"I Did ask if ya were allright to get back, But I think you Threatened me?"  
Red Laughs  
"Yep, sounds like m-me"  
Grillby rolls his eyes Lifting his shot  
"Cheers"  
"Cheers"  
Red clinks his glass and they take the shots together.  
San's coughs a little  
"I'd better go get on your food, don't go getting into any trouble sansy"  
"hey wait, actually, can i get a couple more shots before you go?"  
Grillby raises an eyebrow  
"thought you had places to be"  
"come on grillby I dont need you actin like my mother, just get me the fuckin drinks please"  
grillby rolls his eyes again then refills san's glasses.  
"enjoy, you know anyone else spoke to me like that would get their ass kicked."  
"uhuh"  
Sans downs the shots, Wincing at the burn in his throat, Grillby heads for the kitchen.  
Sans sits restlessly for a minute then hops down from his barstool and heads to the bathroom. When he's shut the door behind him he washes his hands and face in the sink then chews the entire pack of gum quickly piece by piece. Trying to erase the smell of alcohol. He stares at himself in the mirror. He, looks fine. Well, not fine but Not drunk. Papyrus wont know.  
Sans' feels he's won in some small way.  
When he leaves the bathroom grillby is standing at the bar with a familiar grease stained bag and A bottle of mustard.  
Reds eyes light up, He walks forward and grillby passes him his food sans opens it and looks inside"  
"urrrgh yeeesss this is exactly what I n-need, where have you been all my life"  
"It's what you ordered, ya talking to me there or the food?"  
"Oh allways the food" Red winks, then immediately regrets it. His face Seizes in pain From the bruising.  
"hey uh, I gotta get going. y-ya know, things to do, p-people to see."  
"yeah sure"  
sans starts heading out  
"Dont hurry back!" Grillby calls after him  
Red laughs.  
"Seeya' Grillbz"  
Greasy bag of junkfood and bottle of mustard in hand. He pulls up his hood to shield him from the bracing cold and Heads out.


	6. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was writing all of these kitchen table conversations, and It occurs to me that Sans and papyrus do not have a kitchen Table.  
> Whoops.

Sans wolfs down his food on the way home. Taking big bites of tender juicy burger and shoveling handfuls of Hot greasy fries at a half jog. By the time he's finished he can see home. Red chucks the empty bag over his shoulder and wipes his hands on his shorts, heading toward the familiar front door. When he enters the living room papyrus is already dressed, standing in front of the mirror.

"Sans, get here." He calls, not looking away from His reflection  
"Uh, hey Boss, I thought you w-wanted me to polish your armour for you?"  
"I did it myself."  
Papyrus flicks a stray bit of dust off his chest plate  
"Oh, ok"  
"You would have only messed it up"  
"Probably"  
Papyrus turns away from his reflection and tiredly sits at the kitchen table.  
"Help me get my Boots on"  
Sans crouches down and picks up Boss's Heavy black boot he attempts to get it onto his foot but soon fumbles and drops it, crying out in pain from his injured wrist.  
"for goodness sake. Are you useful for nothing?" Papyrus snaps, shooing him away. Red sighs then sits At the small table opposite his brother, Quietly watching him lace his boots. When he's finished Papyrus sits back in his chair, staring into space, for a moment it seems the mask he has Worn every day of his life since he and sans were young children falls away ever so slightly. He looks scared, and tired, and miserable. It only lasts a few seconds then Papyrus seems to snap out of it. He shakes his head a little then abruptly gets to his feet, steeling himself for a moment then marching toward the door. Red hurries to follow. 

When he reaches the door Papyrus turns and looks at Him for a moment, His hand resting loosely on the door handle. He looks Unsure. Boss Is never unsure.

"Don't make any mess while I'm gone, and no going to Grillby's. "  
"Yep, gotcha."  
Boss takes a deep breath.  
"I Expect I will be back late."  
Then he's out the front door and gone.

It feels weird. Alone in their sterile house. Red double checks the front door's locked then goes to the kitchen and hops up to sit on the counter, Just cos there's nobody there to tell him not to.  
He sits for a while. feeling a strange disconnection to his surroundings. none of this stuff is his, It's all papyruses. he's not allowed to touch anything Without permission. Red's a stranger in this house. His status is that of a very unwelcome guest. He feels a wave of Bitter Frustration. 

Filled with the sudden need to act He hops down from the counter Deciding to Look in all the cupboards, Wondering If there's anything he can steal Without Boss finding out. after a while of careful searching Red finds a stale bag of chips he thinks would go unnoticed. So he pockets them and heads to his room.

sans picks up a beer as he walks in sitting on the end of his mattress and opening the chips  
Boss Had been almost nice today. That was usually the way after he'd lost his temper.  
His edges seemed a little softer. Maybe something about kicking the shit out of sans was cathartic. He seemed worried though. Red wonders if he should be worried too.  
he pops a chip in his mouth then takes a swig of beer, staring at the wall.  
Boss was as smart as a whip. He could talk his way in to or out of anything, but if the king was determined for Papyrus to move closer to his work. San's didn't know what would happen.  
He decides not to think about it. Boss could tell him about it in the morning. And then he'd know If it was time to worry.  
Right now He was tired, hungover and in pain and he just wanted to take a nap.  
Red puts on a worn t-shirt, Finishes his beer in a couple of gulps and gets into bed. The soft mattress feels so good on his aching bones He curls under the duvet sighing. Within moments he is sound asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapters Non-con so here's a big ol' trigger warning.


	7. The worst it can get.

Red must have needed the rest because he doesn't wake untill 2 am that night.  
He Feels disorientated, There's light coming in from the hall. His bedroom door is open, Boss is standing in the Doorway, a solid black silouette. Very still, very quiet. Looking right at him.  
Reds soul sinks, Thinking for a moment It must be bad news from the capital. Then Papyrus moves closer to him, and Red see's the expression on his face.  
Oh.   
Papyrus slowly crosses the room like a spectre and weightlessly Sits on sans' matress.  
Red knows why he's here.  
Boss Shifts, slowly sliding a bony hand under his duvet.  
Red lies still and tries to Imagine He isn't here. He feels a Deep, Empty, black hole of hopelessness Swallow his soul. he cant flinch from it and he can't push it down. It sits in him like a rock.  
It allways feels such a betrayal. When he comes to him at night like this. No matter how many times he does it, He's allways suprised and it allways feels like a betrayal.   
Some childish part of him still Has belief in him, Will allways have belief that He can be better. Every time Papyrus gives him some small kindness, He Stupidly, stupidly, can't help but be full of hope. That something is going to change, one day. That Papyrus cares about him "deep down"   
And every time papyrus comes to him like this its a disappointment. And every time it's a slap in the face.   
Boss's hand runs aross his chest, caressing his ribs through the T-shirt, groping him.  
Sans soul lurches, He wants to cry. He tries desperately to detach, dissasociate, go elsewhere, but is painfully present.  
Papyrus stops for a moment looking at him. then lifts back the duvet.  
Sans squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists, his arms stiffly by his sides. Boss leans over him hand lifting up his t-shirt. He sits unmoving for a moment staring at sans' soul with a strange intensity in his expression.  
He starts touching him again. One hand stroking each of his bare ribs in turn, the other other moving to grip his spine. He touches him like he wants to crawl inside him and live there. he touches him with a poorly controlled suffocating desperation.  
Sans starts to count in his head, keeps counting, keeps counting. by the time he stops He's at number 323 and hes crying.  
Stars hes never felt such shame.   
Papyrus tugs down his shorts and a audible sob escapes him.  
Boss puts his hands on Reds thigh bones and pushes his legs apart  
he stops, staring at his pelvis Looking breathless and lustful. But when he looks up at sans his face drops into a frown, Irritated by his tears.  
"Do it now."  
Sans lay twisted half on his side now. hiding his face behind his arm He takes deep breaths, he needs stop crying enough to focus on summoning his magic.  
After a while it forms.  
Papyrus positions himself above him, body covering his.  
Sans has his eyes closed.  
He isnt here. He isnt here. He isnt here.  
When papyrus enters him he doesn't make a sound.   
Sans feels he's left his body.  
He is numb, he is dead, he is a cold ugly bit of rock.  
Boss only comes to him like this at night. Sans wonders if maybe he's ashamed, He hopes he's ashamed.   
He probably isn't. Probably thinks San's owes him this.   
Maybe he does.

After far far too long he finishes. Papyrus lies on top of him for a moment. His full weight pressing down on him, breathing heavy. Then he pushes himself up, adjusts himself and leaves. closing the door behind him quietly.

Sans is alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was depressing to write I'm sure It was depressing to read.  
> Please comment if you enjoy and let me know!


	8. Questions.

Sans wakes with his 6am alarm and heads downstairs to make breakfast, He sets the kettle to boil adding two level teaspoons of insant decaff to an empty cup. He puts two thin slices of bread in the toaster and sets it to four. The kettle clicks, and he waits thirty seconds for the water to rest before filling the cup three quarters up. The toast pops up and he arranges it carefully on the plate. Red stares at the coffee bleakly for a while and imagines spitting in it.  
Heavy footsteps thump down the stairs, Boss swoops into the kitchen picking up the plate and mug off the counter He takes a sip of coffee, Pulling a face then strides out of the room carrying his Breakfast with him.  
"Sans, have you seen my badge" He calls From the living room  
"it's in the bathroom, next to the sink."  
Footsteps Thump back up the stairs.  
Sans leans on the worktop And closes his eyes for a second. A moment later Papyrus Marches back into the kitchen badge in hand.  
"Put this on for me!, hurry up." He Gestures to his badge making ushering movements at Sans with his hands. Sans hurries to assist, Taking the badge from him and carefully threading the needle through The material covering his ribs.  
"The meeting went well. Not that you bothered to ask. It Looks like we will be Staying here for the time being at least."  
Sans looks up Forgetting the badge  
"Oh"  
"Dont stop I'm In a Hurry For goodness sake"  
"Sorry" Sans quickly goes back to the Badge clipping it together and steps back taking a good look at it to make sure its on straight  
"Yep y-you're good Boss."  
Papyrus Checks himself in the mirror Fiddling with the badge.  
"Yes, well The king agreed That if I prove I can Take on more work at the Capital while remaining living here, There is no reason I shouldn't stay Where I am comfortable. But still, while Things are uncertain, I must be exceptional. Your injury must be healed enough now, Help me with my boots."  
Papyrus sits Down In his usual chair at the kitchen table and sans Bends down to help, He Gets the boots on ok but laces them with difficulty. Papyrus sips the coffee  
"Sans this coffee is terrible, what did you do to it?"  
"S-same as every fuckin day."  
Papyrus smacks him in the side of the head  
"Don't be disrespectful"  
"Fuck, Ow, sorry Boss."  
Sans rubs his stinging skull Then finishes tying the laces.  
"done."  
He rises and marches to the door  
"I Will be working in the Capital today so expect me back very late. I know you've no work today but I expect NO trouble from you understand, If I Come back and hear you've been drinking yourself stupid at that Bar There will be HELL to pay"  
"Yes Boss."  
He leaves.  
Red Waits a little While then heads on over to Grillbys.

When Sans Arrives Grillby is serving another customer, Red breaths a sigh of relief knowing Papyrus will be gone all day. no work, no trouble. He strolls up to the bar.  
"h-hey Grillby, Beer me."  
"Red fuck off, wait your turn i'm with a customer" Grillby frowns at him  
"that'll be thirty gold thanks" A Serious looking monster Put the money in his palm, and Leaves with his drinks.  
"Hey I'm a c-customer" Grillby walks to stand opposite him Putting his hands on the bar.  
"Real customers pay."  
"Yeah, about that, I'm c-coming into gold in a b-big way really soon an-"  
"Yeah Yeah whatever, what do you want?"  
"Just a beer to start"  
"We daydrinking again?"  
"looks like it, you g-gonna join me?"  
"I might just. It's been one of those days" Grillby Picks out two beers and opens them, setting one down infront of sans, taking a swig out of the other. Looking absent mindedly across the bar.  
"Jerry was in here last night, the guys a nightmare, drank too much and threw up everywhere, had to throw him out."  
"Guy never could h-handle his drink" San's shrugs.  
"You can hardly talk, Don't think I'll be dragging Your drunk ass out of here. I see any of that shit from you I'm cutting you off."  
San's ignores him.

The day passed blessedly uneventfully  
Red Played poker with Lesser dog and won, Amid much barking and accusations of cheating. Grillby had to intervine with a Free drink and a couple of dog treats to Calm him.  
Red Did cheat, but still. Worth it.  
For lunch he orders the usual, and eats the greasy food slowly and luxuriously for once.  
He feels merry and energetic for the first time in a long time. The promise of a full day of freedom Making him want to Push Down all of his more unpleasant feelings and celebrate.  
Sans Socialises with some of the bars More approachable patrons, makes small talk and cracks jokes. But Many of snowdins residents keep him at arms length, so he Spends the majority of his time Sat at the bar.  
As morning turns to afternoon turns to early evening the bar gets fuller and the drinks get stronger.  
San is loudly singing along to the jukebox When grillby catches his eye Holding two cigarettes.  
"Gonna take my break, get some air, keep me company?"  
Sans hops down from the barstool Following him outside.  
Grillby leans against the Wall and lights the cigarettes Passing one to sans, Sans leans next to him and they stand in silence for a moment looking out across the snow covered street together.  
"seen a lot of you today, you not got anywhere to be?"  
"Nope. Nothing to do, n-nowhere to be. I'm all Yours."  
"Lucky me." Grillby rolls his eyes and takes a drag of His ciggerette, He exhales and plumes of white smoke rise into the open black air, Grillbys Gently flickering Purple flames throwing gently dancing light onto the wall around him, In his slightly drunken state sans thinks its quite lovely. To have a form Thats such an open expression of raw magic.  
"sans. You're staring" Red Awkwardly clears his throat quickly looking away.  
"sorry" Grillby puts his cigarette out on the wall and turns to face him  
"I've been wanting to talk to you about something" Sans' soul sinks, "something" Is never anything good. He says nothing gesturing for him to continue.  
"Just be real with me for a minute here"  
"Yeah yeah Im listnin', spit it out"  
Grillby looks Down And cautiously speaks, looking uncomfortable.  
"those bruises. Aint from no fall."  
Red blanches, taking a step back.  
"You come in here lookin more Black and blue than white most nights, I just wanna know. is It Papyrus doin' that to you Cos If it is, That aint right red." Something in Reds expression shuts down, His eyelights dimming.  
"Fuck you" He turns to walk away But grillby Catches his arm.  
"come on Sans I just wanna know."  
Red yanks his arm back  
"Yeah, he hits me, and f-fuckin what. It happens. Dno If you've l-looked around Latley, seen where we are, But life isnt all Sunshine and f-f-fuckin rainbows. I'm LUCKY, compared to what most get." Grillbys Face falls.  
"Why don't you leave?"  
"Where would I go." Reds voice is flat and bitter.  
"Undergrounds a pretty big place, Lotsa places to go If you wanna disappear, and if you need somewhere to lay Low for a couple of days you can Allways stay here, "  
"Here as in?"  
"At my place, We could keep it quiet, Theres room, It wouldn't be any trouble."  
"Wow, You might be the Dumbest guy I ever met. Boss w-would find me. He'd find me and He'd fuckin' kill you for h-hiding me."  
"You don't think I can take him?"  
Sans doesn't dignify that with a response, Laughing humorlessly.  
"Yeah ok maybe not." Grillby Frowns into the mid distance, Deep in thought.  
They stand in silence for a moment, Red staring down absent mindedly kicking up snow from the ground, The only noises being muffled music coming from inside the bar and a loud drunken conversation far in the distance, after a while San's speaks.  
"You cant b-be like that grillbz'. getting in peoples business, offerin' to let people stay in your fuckin' h-house, You can't Trust people Like that Here. k-keep going the way you are and you're gonna end up Dust, then who's gonna Serve me my drinks."  
"It's not people, It's just you." The sincerity in which grillby speaks Makes him lift his head.  
Grillby is giving him that look again, and San's finds he cant look away. Something in grillbys softly glowing face seems so open, so genuine, It takes his breath away. Grillbys steps forward closing the distance between them, his hand reaches out and rests cautiously on his shoulder, It's warm. It starts to snow.

The Door swings open and Sans jumps, Hurridly putting space between grillby and himself.  
An ugly looking fish monster sticks his head out the door.  
"Heyyyy Grillby, Break nearly over? we're dyin' for drinks in here."  
"Yeah, Im coming now." Grillby waves him away and the door closes. They are alone again. He turns to look at Sans.  
"Listen, I'm closing up early tonight, Fuck that lot They can do without. Stay, stay so we can talk about this."  
"That depends, What we talking about?"  
"San's don't give me that shit. Just stay, ok?"  
"Ok."  
"Really?"  
"Yeah ok, w-whatever"  
"I gotta get back to work, Come get a drink when your ready."  
Grillby Squeezes his arm gently then Heads inside.  
Sans stands alone for a while, feeling lost, he unthinkingly lifts his hand to his arm, Where Grillby Touched him. He feels he's in the process of making a terrible mistake. Still, He Pushes open the door and heads inside.


	9. I made a mistake

When Sans enters The bar Grillby is back to serving an array of impatient customers. He slowly crosses the room, full of anxiety and hyper-vigilant. Red slides onto his usual stool, Staring at his paper coaster, picking at the peeling edges. He sips his whiskey.  
Sans Doesn’t know why he’s doing this, doesn’t know why he’s Still here. Boss would most certainly not approve. He should leave now.  
Sans stays seated, full of anxiety and a strange creeping dread.  
His bones still feel warm where Grillby rested his hand on his shoulder. He feels twisted, tense, strange. Pulled apart by some strange squirming emotion he can’t seem to identify.  
Sans sighs deeply and rubs his temples with his finger bones trying to tune out the noisy bar, trying to run through what he’s going to say when he’s alone with Grillby , He’d say pretty much anything to have Grillby leave this thing with him and his brother alone.  
He finishes the rest of his his whiskey in one short gulp. the burn momentarily soothing his sense of impending panic.  
Fuck, Why did he agree to this?

The wait is torture. In the twenty minutes it takes for Grillby to finally switch off the music and call for closing time sans has chain smoked half a pack of cigarettes and swallowed down four more glasses of whiskey.  
While the bars strange gruff patrons are distracted arguing with Grillby, protesting the early close, Sans slips away to the restroom, locking the door behind him.  
He sits on the floor his back to the door. lighting another cigarette, listening.  
He can’t have anyone see him, what if it got back to Boss? How could he possibly explain, being alone, with Grillby, in a closed bar?  
The sounds of the bar get steadily quieter as drunken voices drift into the distance.  
Right, bars closed, Time to have this conversation.  
Sans considers climbing out the bathroom window.  
He steadily gets to his feet unlocking the door and pushing it open, Grillby is sitting at the empty bar, slouching. He’s sipping a beer, shirt sleeves rolled up, looking tired and thoughtful.  
When he spots sans he smiles.  
“Hey, I thought you’d gone”  
“Nope, s-still here.” Sans crosses the room and stands, stiffly a couple of feet away from Grillby, arms folded.  
“You gonna sit down?” Grillby questions, raising an eyebrow at him.  
That d-depends, what did you w-wanna talk about?”  
“Sans, you know what I wanna talk about. Sit down, have a drink, don’t be a dick.”  
Sans reluctantly sits, soul constricting with anxiety. he takes a sip of his beer avoiding Grillby’s eye.  
“F-Fine, I know what you wanna talk about, but I don’t wanna t-talk about it ok? We already had this conversation outside. it’s over, D-done, drop it.” Sans sits full of tension frowning picking apart the threading on the sleeve of his jacket.  
“It’s really.., it’s not bad like you think it is ok.” He mutters.  
Grillby looks exasperated.  
“Red, come on”  
“W-what do you want from me? My brother c-can be a hardass, we fight, sure, what siblings don’t? But really it’s, fine, it’s good. We look after each other, so p-p-please Grillbz stop fuckin mothering me or I’m gonna l-loose my m-mind.” Grillby stares at him expression unreadable.  
“He’s got you wearin a collar sans.” Sans is taken aback and for a moment shame and hurt and humiliation flashes thought him, but it’s quickly replaced with anger.  
“F-Fuck you.”Sans gets up and storms to the door Grillby quickly gets up to follow. sans turns around eye lights blazing expression furious “For y-your information, this” Sans angrily gestures to his neck “protects me, The name p-papyrus means something here, Who the F-Fuck are you to s-say, you don’t even know me, you don’t even know me a l-little.”  
“Come on sans you’ve been coming in here every day since you turned fifteen I think I know you a little.” Grillby rolls his eyes  
“W-Whatever I’m out” Sans turns to leave and Grillby reaches out and gently grabs him by the arm.  
“Don’t be like that I’m sorry ok, if you want me to I’ll drop it, fine I’ll drop it. You’re a good guy Red, that’s a rare thing round here. you’re an asshole but your a good guy, it just sucks to see you get less than you deserve.”  
Sans closes his eyes, he thinks about what he let his brother do to him last night.  
“I’m n-not a good guy.”  
Grillby is standing close to him again. Sans can feel the heat radiating off him, he once again reaches out and rests a hand on his shoulder.  
“Sans come on, look at me. you are, you’re a really good guy... I like you, anyway.”  
Sans reluctantly looks up to meet his eye, Grillby is smouldering gently, expression soft and open and raw, sans feels something strange twist in his gut. The emotion he was having a hard time identifying earlier now seems glaringly obvious. Grillby moves closer still. Sans breathing gets strangely heavy. he’s drunk, and stars grillby is so close.  
“Are you Ok?” Grillby says Gentle and low.  
Sans Doesn’t reply he Pulls his eyes away from Grillby’s and looks at the floor, Frowning  
“Sans, look at me.”  
Sans reluctantly lifts his head to face him and Grillby kisses him, softly pressing their mouths together. It’s far better than it has any right to be.  
Sans feels an unsettling rush of shuddering pleasure throughout his whole body. His head feels filled up with clouds, his sockets half closed.  
The kiss deepens as sans teeth part summoning his tongue allmost unconsciously Grillby wraps his big arms round sans and pulls him close kissing him with a messy unrestrained passion. Sans digs his fingertips into Grillbys flaming back. Stars, it feels like coming home...  
He should go home now.  
The reality of his situation floods in.  
What is he doing? Papyrus is going to find out, he always finds out, what is he doing?he’s betrayed boss. stars, what is he doing?  
He shoves grillby away stepping a away from him breathing hard clutching his chest trying to calm his anxiety  
grillby looks concerned hovering about three feet away as if unsure if he should come any closer.  
“Red, what’s wrong?  
“Fuck off” Red buries his face in his hands breathing still shaky  
“Did I overstep I’m sorry we can forget about it”  
“No, no it’s me. My fault, I wanted you to.”  
“Oh”  
Sans stands up straight lowers his arms and takes a deep breath  
“I gotta go now”  
“Sans wait I-“  
Sans ignores him and once again jerkily unlocking the door then swinging it open and striding out the door into the three inch thick powdery white snow  
Grillby sticks his head out the door,  
“Are you sure your gonna be ok out there? Looks like a blizzard is coming”  
The air was thick with fat snowflakes and the wind was chill  
“I’ll be f-fine I’m an adult.”  
Sans zips up his coat ducks his head to the wind and begins to trudge home as fast as he can hastily dragging his small feet through the thick snow, looking straight ahead. Grillby stands in the doorway for a moment, watching him silently, before heading inside, locking the door behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

Sans trudges home, heavy wet snowflakes falling fast, the icy wind beating down. He feels adrift in a sea of uncertainty and shame.  
If Grillby knew him, really knew who he was, he would never...  
Sans wraps his arms round himself, bowing his head against the wind. he can’t help but feel this is all some strange practical joke at his expense.  
Sans hasn’t had anything like that, ever. He’s fine with it, it’s just never been in the cards for him. Its kinda like an unspoken rule... Well, maybe not unspoken. Boss makes it pretty clear how he feels if he sees Sans even speaking to another monster. If Sans goes out alone, even if it’s to the shop Boss can get Paranoid, throwing around accusations, asking where he’s been, who’s he’s been talking to, calling him names, threatening him.  
In these times Red would try say the right thing, but it was exhausting, to be berated like that, to be made to feel scared like that. To stand there and take his relentless shit til’ Papyrus either calms down and let’s him go or inevitably looses his temper and beats him to all hell.  
Sans remembers when they were kids and he thought his little brothers possessive streak was cute. He’d huff and puff and stamp his foot when Sans spent time with friends but it seemed all together harmless. Now they are grown and If Paps finds out he’ll kill Grillby. He’d turn him to dust without thought or hesitation and it’d be entirely Sans’ fault. How did they end up here? How did He fuck up this badly?  
Sans comes to a standstill. He’s home. Lights are off, he’s beaten Boss home it looks like. He stands for a moment and stares at the dark windows on their little house. He brings his hand up to undo the top button of his coat and he smells the familiar campfire smell lingering on his hand, on the fingers that not so long ago were dug in Grillbys shoulder. Part of him want’s to fall to knees and cry, throw himself to the ground and shout his pain and unhappiness into the roaring night air. why can’t he be normal, why can’t he have normal things. He knows why. Some people are just built to be happy, to have friends and be loved and to face each new day with a certainty of brighter things ahead and a drive to make this terrible place a little better. That was never Sans. There’s an ugliness inside him, a wrongness so deep and unchanging that he seldom lives a day without feeling shame. some people were built to be happy and he was built for this.  
He quietly unlocks the front door and heads inside. The house is dark, quiet and empty, he kicks off his sneakers then bends down to pick them up turning on the living room light. He winces at the sudden brightness, the house looks empty and untouched, shadowed by quietness, he heads to his room, the worn sneakers are more tossed into a corner red pulls off his sweaty T-shirt and picks a slightly cleaner one off the floor then heads to the bathroom and washes in the sink, attempting to rid himself of the booze and smoke smell that still lingers, He pulls the Fresh shirt over his head, looking at his tired and damaged face in the mirror attempting to clear his head.  
absent mindedly running a finger bone across the faded bruising under one of his sockets, he expects himself to look different somehow, that there would be some glaring sign of his betrayal written across his forehead, but he looks the same as ever.  
If he convinces himself this never happened then maybe it’ll be like it never did.  
Needs to take some time away from Grillbys, at-least a week or so till this has blown over. The idea of not having easy access to alcohol makes his soul clench in anxiety, but he can go to the shop, scrape some money together, it’ll be fine. He hates going there, the bunny who works there doesn’t much care for him, always glares at him across the counter and overcharges him without fail. probably got some beef with papyrus, but he’ll manage.  
It’s hard not to imagine Boss as omnipotent, such is the control he has over every aspect of sans’ life. Red’s never been good at keeping secrets from him. Most of the time Boss will know he’s hiding something just from looking at him, and Sans never takes long to crack. But really there’s no way he could know, and as long as Sans Keeps his head down and stays quiet he won’t find out.

The magical winds howl outside the silent house and Sans finds himself worrying for Papyrus. He heads downstairs and checks the clock, nearly two am and still no sign of him. He sits on the sofa careful not to mess up the cushions and stares at the closed front door, Imagining him out there alone in this unforgiving weather. Again he is wrecked with guilt, at his selfishness, at his stupidity. if His brother didn’t return, if he were to die at the capital, working to keep them safe, while sans drank and laughed and sang and told Grillby their personal business, while he kissed Grillby, how could he live with himself.  
He waits there for what feels like a long time, taking turns between staring at the clock and staring at the door. before long his sockets drift closed and he falls into an uneasy sleep. At around four he startles awake to the sound of the front door opening. Relief floods him, Boss is home.  
Papyrus closes the door behind him and turns to look at sans, face set into his near permanent scowl.  
Keeping busy as always I see” When Sans gets a good look at his brothers face he has to work not to flinch, he looks terrible. He looks pale and drawn, shadows of exhaustion under both sockets Teeth clenched brow furrowed in his usual manic scowl but beneath that was a blank inhuman emptiness that frightens Sans. There’s a bruise across his forehead and he looks almost disheveled, at least by papyrus’s standards. A layer of dust covers his gloves. Sans finds himself fumbling for words.  
“I uh, fell asleep.” He mumbles, Papyrus’s scowl deepens.  
“Yes, I can see that, idiot.” He grabs sans roughly by the arm and drags him to his feet then smacks him hard across the side of his head, sans cries out in surprised pain he shoves him towards the kitchen “what is the point in you living when you sleep half your life. GO, make tea,” Sans staggers slightly clutching the side of his skull, his ear ringing.  
“Yes Boss, sorry Boss” Sans shakes off the throbbing pain in his temple and hurries to boil the kettle.  
One decaf teabag left for fifty seconds in water that had been boiled then left to rest, no milk, no sugar.  
When Boss was in this kinda mood he didn’t wanna fuck it up.  
He returns to the living room tea in hand and passes it to boss then steps back standing awkwardly about five feet Away Sans watches as Papyrus sips the tea expression unreadable.  
“Is it uh o-ok?”  
Sans bearly has time to dodge when the scalding cup of tea is launched at his head, shattering on the wall behind him spraying him with hot tea and broken bits of China  
He slips and falls on his side frozen on the spot shrinking backwards as papyrus gets up from his chair.  
“I come home from a day at the capital, which I would tell you about but quite honestly I wouldn’t want to burden you with such terrible knowledge, and I find you asleep, on my sofa. Then I ask you to do one, single thing for me which is make me a drinkable cup of tea and you can’t even do that! Look at you! YOU ARE DRUNK! YOU STINK OF CIGARETTES!” Papyrus is bellowing at him, eyes mad and alight with rage and something predatory like a snake about to strike. Sans shuffles backwards across the floor.  
“I’m s-sorry please, I’ll make you more tea”  
Papyrus steps forwards taking him by the collar and roughly dragging him to his feet he puts his face close to sans’ his sockets black and empty a calm quiet insanity in his expression  
“Sometimes I feel like, I should just kill you.”  
“Please Boss no no no y-you don’t mean that”  
“Imagine the relief not having to come home every day and see your STUPID FACE”  
Papyrus spits at him “What are you good for, hmm? weak of mind, weak of body weak of character. Look at you, you're Pathetic, you’re shaking”  
Shame flooded Sans he fought back tears looking at the floor.  
Without warning papyrus backhands him hard enough to knock him to the ground the fall knocks the wind out of him, and his cheekbone and temple throb and sting. Papyrus narrows his eyes “I’m going to bed, you don’t follow the rules of this house you don’t stay here, you can sleep in the tool shed tonight.”  
Papyrus pulls open the draw and pulls out a set of keys putting them in Sans’ hand  
Something in Soul wants to argue that, plead that, he not be made to sleep in the shed like an animal, but he’s too scared. so he pushes down the feeling of pure degradation drowning his soul and pulls himself up, pulling on his trainers looking at the floor. Boss opens the front door and ushers him out, a nasty look on his face. Sans walks past him into the thick snow head down, and jumps when the door is promptly slammed behind him. He looks out into the black night painted white with snow, snowflakes rush by him swept up by the strong wind.  
He’s sure it’ll be light soon. He bows his head, and heads to the tool shed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo I wrote this chapter when I had flu, as always tell me what you think, what you think I need to change, what you want for the characters etc.


	11. Trouble breathing

Sans dreams of being buried alive. wet soil loose cascading around him, falling into his mouth and eye sockets. He reaches upward, scrabbling for the surface and sees a crack of light above him. for a moment he feels hope, before the small hole is smothered by more earth and he sinks even further down. deep down, swallowed up by the ground, trapped on all sides, any movement met with more soil falling. weighing him down, sinking so deep there’s no hope of escape. he can’t breath, he can’t breath. he tries to push the damp bitter earth out of his mouth to yell but even more falls in, he tries to struggle, to move but the earth weighs down his limbs, he can’t move at all now, he’s frozen, nobody will find him here, people could be walking over his head and never find him.  
He wakes with a start, Alone on the hard floorboards of the freezing toolshed, the taste of dirt still in his mouth. Red tries to sit up but his head swims and pounds so he slumps back down. laying on his side arms wrapped round his middle. He’s shivering, He feels a strange prickling feeling in his bones and he’s covered by a sheen of sweat, he has the beginning of a fever and a cough that sounds like a chainsaw starting up. stars he’s cold, His bones feel frozen. Sans coughs again and it hurts. Leaving a terrible metallic taste in his mouth.  
Oh for fucks sake, he’s sick. He’s meant to be on sentry duty today, Papyrus is gonna kill him.  
Sans struggles to his feet, then immediately gets dizzy and has to sit back down again. He breaths deeply for several minutes trying to ride out the wave of Nausea, suppressing the urge to vomit all over Boss’ tool shed floor. Then for the third time slowly gets to his feet. This time he only just manages to stay upright.  
Red is leaning heavily on the wall head pounding when the shed door bursts open.  
“Sans just because you slept out here doesn’t mean you’re exempt from-“ Papyrus sees him and abruptly stops talking.  
“you’re sick.”  
“N-nnah Boss I’m f-fine m’just coming t’ do ya coffee now.” Sans is swaying on his feet.  
Papyrus pulls a face like he’s just swallowed something sharp, crosses the room in a couple of steps then sweeps sans off his feet, setting off marching towards the house. Sans hangs limply, too sick to protest, he feels disoriented and feverish scrunching his sockets closed against the dim morning light, his head pounding. they stop walking after a little while and papyrus abruptly plonks him on the kitchen counter, holding him at arms length to Check him, when he sees Sans’ stats he pales a little.  
“Your Hp is low, 0.72” Papyrus puts his head in his hands sighing frustratedly. jaw set, frown deep, muttering “Idiot, idiot, hear that sans you’re an idiot! Getting sick on today of all days. You’re on sentry duty and there’s nobody to replace you, I’m expected at the capital again this afternoon and I haven’t the magical energy to spare on healing you.” Papyrus takes Sans by the shoulders roughly.  
Sans Doesn’t want to be healed. The idea of His brother weakening himself for his benefit before heading into the most dangerous place in the underground made Him feel a little sick.  
“Mm, fine B-Boss I’ll be fine you go, work, I’ll be f-f-fine.” Sans tries to pull himself up a little straighter.  
Boss’s stares at sans for a moment then releases his shoulders and steps back,putting distance between them  
“Your sure? I’ll bring medicine from the Capital.”  
“Yeah, I’m sure I’m fine, I just need rest”  
“You know if you didn’t spend half your life drunk, eating that ghastly food then you wouldn’t get sick so easily”  
“Yeah I know, sorry Boss.” Sans sneezes weakly.  
Papyrus walks up to him grabbing him and lifting him down from the counter, it feels a little strange to be back on his feet and he sways a little but the idea of getting into his own bed keeps Sans determined. all though he’s having a hard time focusing.  
“Well then, go, rest. I have business to attend too, I will bring medicine tonight.”  
“Ok, got it, Bye Paps’” Sans sluggishly heads to leave and Papyrus hand comes fast like a whip and grabs Him by the arm Sans turns and Boss is glaring into his face.  
“I know you are Ill right now and I am feeling generous enough to assume you are delirious with fever but you do not call me that name, understand me?” Sans goes pale when he realises the mistake he’s made  
“Oh shit, sorry Boss, sorry it was an accident, I didn’t-”  
“You do not have the RIGHT to call me by my given name you do not have the AUTHORITY. Do you Understand?”  
“Yeah Boss, understood.”  
Papyrus grip loosens and he lets go of sans’ arm.  
“Alright then. go to your room.”  
Sans drags himself upstairs struggling put one foot in front of the other, his joints ache, his head aches, he hurts all over. When he finally reaches his room he curls up on his mattress and pulls the duvet over his head. He feels sick, sure, he feels like hell, but it feels so good to be safe and warm again, He can’t bring himself to complain, and quickly drifts.


	12. I spent the day in bed

Sans spends the day alone in bed, tangled up in sweaty bedsheets. He sleeps fitfully, jolting awake often, burning with fever and shivering. Full of tension and fear from strange, vivid dreams he can’t remember.  
He comes round properly for the first time at around 3pm, feeling worse than ever, shaking and shivering and nauseous, filled with a familiar anxiety, his soul tight with a strange tension. It felt to Sans like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room.  
Shit, Sans recognises this feeling, he’s going through the beginnings of withdrawal, not a good thing when he’s already sick.  
He thinks of the vodka stashed under his clothes pile longingly, laying on his back sockets closed breathing slowly.  
He’s never felt so unwell in his life, But he eventually manages to drag himself out from under his duvet, dig the bottle out from under the clothes pile and carry it back to his mattress, taking a long break in-between to lie on the floor groaning.  
Red sits on his bed with his vodka, he puts a couple of cushions against his back and sits leaning against the wall, pulling the duvet up to his chin and drinks, relief and comfort flood him, the familiar burn in his throat feeling like an old friend come to relive him of his sorrows. He sits and sips slowly and steadily until the clawing relentless longing has disappeared and then continues to drink till a quarter of the bottle is gone. Sweat prickling on his bones he suddenly feels far too ill to sit up and lies back down on his side putting the vodka on the floor next to him and covering it with a dirty t-shirt in case Papyrus comes in. He feels a little better, his sharper thoughts dulled, all His relentless, all-encompassing worries pushed away somewhere behind the cloud of drunkenness. His sockets once again drift closed.

This time He dreams he’s standing in front of the house, it’s dead silent, everything around him flat and colourless. The dark little windows sit in their neat, tight little home. The air entirely still, not a hint of wind. It feels as if he is standing in an old photograph. Sans thinks he should go inside, wants to go inside. the still front door calls to him in its silence, tells him he is burdened with terrible purpose, tells him this is what he is for, tells him to step forward, open the door, come in, But he cant bring himself to move, paralysed with fear and uncertainty. this house has seen terrible heartache, and Sans knows, inside, real terror waits for him. Some unseen beast, something that’s been with him since he was born, in the corner of his vision, clinging to his back.  
Something as inevitable as a coming storm.  
He jumps, startled, when he hears jovial voices cut through the thick silence, they sound far away, as if underwater, ringing through the silent air, terribly out of place. some half heard happy conversation, laughter, murmuring. Sans listens sharply, he thinks its coming from behind the house.  
Sans tears his eyes away from the home he shares with his brother and He slowly follows the sound. The crunching of his feet sounding loud in the snow as he cautiously puts one foot in front of the other, The sound gets louder, he can almost make out what’s being said, someone laughs again.  
“Who’s there?”  
His words ring through the silent air and garner no response.  
He takes a deep breath, readying himself for something, then abruptly steps forward to look down the narrow alley behind the house.  
There’s nothing there, only more snow.

He wakes, squinting, blinded by a sharp light emanating from the bare bulb hanging from his ceiling. Papyrus stands over him, glaring impatiently.  
He drops a paper bag unceremoniously onto his chest.  
“I brought medicine from the capital, It wasn’t easy to get ahold of.”  
Sans pulls himself to a sitting position and opens the bag, inside sits a single chocolate brownie. it looks delicious, moist and rich and full of chocolate. But the idea of eating it makes Sans want to gag.  
“It was made with healing magic, usually only the elites have access to this I hope you realise. far beyond what you deserve, You’ve not even thanked me”  
“Sorry Boss, th-thank you.”  
Papyrus looks around Sans room sockets narrowed looking openly disgusted.  
“Honestly, look at this room. how do you live like this? you live like an animal.”  
“I’m s-sorry Boss, I’ll clean it” Papyrus held eye contact with him in silence for a moment.  
“Hurry up and eat it then! I want to go to sleep.”  
“Oh, sorry” Sans takes a deep breath then bites into the brownie, it doesn’t take him long to finish, a few large bites and it’s gone, he sits for a moment feeling the food sit in his soul like something sticky and disgusting, suppressing the urge to vomit.  
relief floods him when the food is absorbed and he feels the healing magic flood his soul with a pleasant bright light, the heavy weight is lifted off his head, and his throat feels less raw, his aching bones feel a pleasant warmth. Sans sighs in relief sockets sinking closed flopping back down onto his mattress his head sinking into the pillow.  
“Sit up and Let me check you”  
Sans opens his sockets and looks up at Papyrus  
“Theres no need Boss I’m fine, I feel-“  
“That wasn’t a request. Sit, Up. ”  
Sans sits up, repressing a deep sigh. He hates being checked, Reminds him too much of fighting. Papyrus faces him, making an odd motion with his hand, as if he were trying to pull something out of the air. Sans feels a strange tugging from somewhere within his form as his stats are pulled up, glowing white holographic letters flickering in the air.  
* SANS 1 ATK 1 DEF  
* Is fine, really.  
Papyrus narrows his sockets at the letters for a moment, then releases his magic, they quickly flicker out of existence.  
He gives a terse, tense sigh. seemingly deep in thought. staring at the wall just over Sans’ shoulder, face stony. He’s been drifting off like this more and more lately. Normally it’s Sans who’s minds always wandering off on him. He can’t help it, just the way he is. He’s always felt a little bit absent from what’s going on around him, just drifting along from thing to thing. He’s got none of papyruses focus, none of his drive. Grillby likes to say he’s “away with the fairies.” Paps’ just says he’s Brainless. Papyrus had always been the more present of the two. Boss prided himself on staying alert and combat-ready at all times. It wasn’t like him, to stare into space like this. Sans watches him quietly and wonders what he's thinking about. Papyrus Abruptly comes back to himself as if a switch has been flicked and turns to meet sans eye, his expression again stoic and cold.  
“I’ll expect you back at work tomorrow then, and to your usual household duties, This is NOT the time for you to use this as an excuse to slack off, understood?”  
“Yep, I understand. I’ll be there, don’t worry.” Papyrus scoffs.  
“You tell me not to worry yet you’ve been a consistent embarrassment to me. I would say it’s sensible to worry when all past records show you’re incapable of completing the smallest tasks without catastrophe”  
“I’m sorry, I’m trying”  
“Obviously not hard enough, I’m going to bed, you’ve inconvenienced me enough for one day.” Papyrus stands and walks to the door, He turns to look back at sans, his hand on the handle.  
“and Sans, be up on time.”  
“I will, I promise.”  
Papyrus leaves closing the door behind him. Sans lies back down, pulling his cover over him, staring at the ceiling. He still feels ill, but his heads clear, he can breath, his cough reduced to an irritation.  
He knows he needs sleep, but now his fevers gone it’s suddenly become a challenge. He tries not to let Papyrus’s words get to him but they do. He knows, really that Boss would never be happy with him, no matter how closely he followed his many, many rules, that boss doesn’t hit him cos he fucks up, he hits him cos he wants to hit something and Sans happens to be there. But still, he feels worthless and a burden and terribly terribly guilty. Guilty and scared. What he did with Grillby the other night keeps trying to claw its way to the forefront of his mind, as much as he tries to suppress it, and the thought brings with it waves of anxiety that leave him clenching his boney fists. He tosses and turns for what feels like hours before sleep comes, but when it finally does, Sans thankfully dreams of nothing.


	13. Canine conundrum

The morning started like any other, Sans woke with his usual alarm, feeling like he hadn’t slept at all, and made his way downstairs to start the normal routine of making his brother breakfast and helping him get ready for work.  
Papyrus was tense and snappish, constantly on the verge of flying off the handle. He berated him for his lack of motivation, his lack of intelligence, his slovenly appearance, his incompetence. To makes things worse Sans was tired and kept fucking everything up. He makes the coffee too strong, when helping Papyrus with his boots he tries to put the wrong boot on the wrong foot. When he pins papyrus’s badge his hands slip and he pricks him in the rib. By the time Sans sees him off he has two fresh black eyes and a faint ringing in his ears from having his head forcibly slammed against the radiator. Before Papyrus leaves for work he gives Sans the usual talking too, telling him no drinking, no sleeping at your post, if you bring shame on me you’ll regret the day you were born, Blah blah blah. When he’s gone Sans heads to his room to get his vodka. He doesn’t have to be at work for twenty minutes, and the walk to his post takes ten, so he grabs a bag of peas out the freezer and sits at the kitchen table holding them to his throbbing skull.  
The ten Minutes he had to rest passed way too quickly and before too long Sans was reluctantly pulling on his coat, he zipped it up half way, stuffed the bottle of vodka inside of it then zipped it up to his chin. He tiredly attempted to lace his sneakers before giving up and tucking them in, Red stands to leave but catches sight of himself in the mirror and does a double-take, he forgets what he’s doing for a moment, staring at his reflection.  
He almost doesn’t recognise himself. Grillby was right, He’s more black and blue than white these days. His face wears the evidence of Papyruses steadily worsening temper, bruises on top of bruises, his sockets ringed with black, purple blooms across his temple, his cheekbone stained yellow and still cracked from some half healed injury. So many old bruises, he can’t remember where he got them all. Sans brings a hand to his face, staring into his own burning red eye-lights. for a moment transfixed at the sad beaten up face staring back at him. He looks ugly... scary, even. It’s embarrassing to walk around like this, covered in bruises, when Everybody who see’s him knows, can guess, where he got them.  
Sans turns away from the mirror, breathing in deeply, trying to rid himself of the barrage of unpleasant thoughts that threaten to bury him. Sans draws himself up to his full, unimpressive, height, and attempts to steel himself for the day ahead. He pulls open the front door and heads out into the weak morning light, locking the front door tight behind him.  
Red walks to the end of the drive then stops, taking a moment to look back at the house, thinking of yesterdays strange dream. The empty home sits in its usual spot, looking very non-threatening, Sans wonders which weird part of his subconscious imagined there was a monster in there. He considers walking round the side to peek behind the house, just to make sure, but The still chilly air bites at him through his coat, pushing him to move, So he stuffs his hands in his pockets, turns his back on the home he’d lived in most his life and starts tiredly shuffling to work.  
Snowdin was quiet this time of day, the dim morning light sapped the Color out of everything, when he passed Grillbys Sans ducked his head and quickened his pace and didn’t slow down it’ll he was passing the old broken sign That marked the end of town. It was meant to say “Welcome to Snowdin” But a significant amount of the letters were missing so what it actually said was “elcome o now in”  
Sans stops to look at it a while, taking out cigarette and sticking it between his teeth, he takes out his lighter and flicks it with his thumb, examining the weather beaten letters and trying not to think about how Grillby lights his cigarettes, with a touch of his burning finger tips. He tries not to think about Grillby.  
The walk to his station is peaceful enough. The path next to the forest is generally littered with traps but you’ll be fine if you know where to step. Sans would prefer not to work so close to the ruins, given the creepy rumours that seem to surround the place, But, hey, it could be worse.  
His job is different from most in that is doesn’t really involve much working. The underground hasn’t seen a Human in years and years, so the majority of the time at his station is spent sitting around in the bitter cold doing a whole lotta nothing. He doesn’t mind it, he’d rather a job with a bit more of a point to it, but you can’t get everything you want.  
As soon as Red reaches his little sentry station he makes himself comfortable getting ready for a day of discomfort and boredom. He sits in his chair and puts his feet up on the bar, grabbing a blanket from underneath and throwing it over his lap then he unzips his coat, pulls out his vodka and takes a long drink, sockets closed. Sans took a special pleasure in the first drink of the day. He soul sighed with something close to contentment at the heady pleasurable burn of the vodka. To him It was like, taking a bite of a really juicy burger when you’re really hungry, or getting a hug from someone you were really attracted to. Sans’ mind is pulled back to Grillbys strong burning arms wrapped around him but he quickly extinguishes that train of thought.  
He can’t imagine life without drink, It just takes the edge off of living. Stars, he can’t imagine living without that small comfort in the constant, unending, relentless shit-show that was living in his fucked up head, with his fucked up life.  
This is why he hates being left alone with nothing to do all day, nothing but his thoughts. He starts to think about.. things. Thinks about how shit everything is, how shit he is, gets caught up in bad memories, usually ends up wanting to walk to waterfall and throw himself off a high bridge, and what’s the point in that.  
At least he’s got his vodka. It really does keep him sane. Sans takes another long drink then pulls the blanket up to cover his arms, it really is bitterly cold, the tips of Sans’ phalanges are starting to feel numb, he relaxes in his chair. his mind drifts. 

Sans jumps, startled, when he hears crunching footsteps in the snow. He quickly puts the vodka on the floor, throwing the blanket over the top of it then sitting up straight just in time to see Dogamy and dogaressa approaching his station. Expressions flat, eyes forward, ears pricked. Something in the way they walked was strangely synchronised. They reminded sans of soldiers. Sans clears his throat then speaks.  
“Dogamy, Dogaressa. C-can I help you?” They stand opposite him looking serious.  
“The captain sent us. To make sure you weren’t slacking off.” Dogaressa speaks flatly. looking at him as though she were assessing him. Dogamy stares at the blanket on the floor  
“Well, sorry for w-wastin’ ya time guys but as ya can s-see, I’m here, I’m workin’ so, bye, thanks for stopping by.”  
“Drop the attitude, mutt!” Dogamy barks, voice deep and rough, glaring at him, “he also asked us to make sure you weren’t drinking on your post.”  
“D-Does it look like I’m dr-drinking on my post to you?” The canine couple share a look then look back at him, there was something creepy about them. All that sleek black fur, those wolfish predatory eyes, thinking about those teeth, Sans wanted to shudder.  
“We can smell you’ve been drinking” Dogaressa says.  
“So I had a drink b-before I got here s-s-sue me, but I’m obviously not dr-drinking now so, bye now” the couple exchange another look. Dogamy speaks this time  
“We can smell you’ve been drinking in the last twenty minutes, and also that there’s a bottle of M.T brand vodka, under that blanket, which you really need to wash by the way.” Sans’ heart sinks. Fuck, he’s caught.  
Dogamy walks behind his station and picks up the blanket, picking up the bottle of vodka looking at it with a triumphant smirk then returns to stand next to his wife. Sans looks at the pair of them imploringly  
“Heh, h-hey guys any way w-we can not tell the captain about this?”  
“Do your job sans. Goodbye.” They turn walk away Dogaressa throws him one last scowl. Sans leans back in his chair miserably watching them go.  
Oh Wowie, is he ever fucked.


	14. Chapter 14

Sans day only gets worse from then on. He struggles through the rest of his shift, standing in the freezing cold, worrying about papyrus’s reaction to his little... error in judgement. the nagging panic of his steadily increasing sobriety eating away at him. When he finally reaches the end of his work hours he can’t get away soon enough. He counts the small amount of loose gold in his pocket (7g) and heads straight to the shop, whatever papyrus’s reaction to him being caught drinking on the job, Sans sure as hell wasn’t gonna face him sober, he needs a beer to level him out. When he reaches the shop and finds it closed, lights off. Red wants to scream. But he crushes the wave of frustration defeatedly turning around and walking back home, his soul full of abject misery. As he’s passing grillbys he feels awfully tempted to just walk in. Order a nice whiskey to warm him up, Crack some jokes, pretend like nothing happened. No questions everything back to normal. If only things were that simple.  
When Sans arrives home he heads straight to his room pulls open his cluttered draw and digs out some pills hidden under his shirts, Valium. he saves them for special occasions, like this one, when drink isn’t on offer, it’s not like they get him super high, they just make everything, a little easier, emotions seem less..., emotional, pain feels a little less painful. It’s like living through a fog where nothing can quite touch him. He pops three of the pills out of their casing and swallows them dry. Sans thinks of the hours of stretching ahead until Papyrus’s return. Hours of not knowing what the repercussions of his disobedience would be. Sans decides to try and rest, feeling too miserable to do much else, He climbs into bed. Laying on his back Staring at the hanging bare bulb on ceiling, mind sinking into a drug induced haze. He thinks he cannot possibly sleep, with the worry hanging over him. But the drug smooths everything over, anxiety swept away, and he’s so tired, so so tired, he falls into dreamless sleep.  
Sans wakes, suddenly when Papyrus drags him off his mattress by the ankle and his skull bumps the floor with a thud. it takes a while for him to understand what’s happening, and he blearily struggles to get free as papyrus wordlessly drags him down the stairs, scraping his shoulder bones and spine on the hard wood, his skull thumping on every step.  
Papyrus drags him to the living room and drops him on the rug. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can Boss has roughly grabbed him by the collar and punched him in the face. Fist connecting hard with his nasal bones with a dull thud of pain that seems to shake Sans’ whole skull and sends Him sprawling to the floor. It doesn’t hurt as much as it would have without the pills he’d taken earlier, but still, there’s a strange numb ache in between his eyes spreading across his brow, he feels the wetness of blood on his face from Boss’s ring cutting into him.  
While Sans lies on the floor clutching his broken face, His head still a blur of confusion and panic, Papyrus paces back and forth a couple of times, fists clenched tightly at his sides, Then returns to Sans, bending down, Grabbing him by the shoulder and looking at him for a moment with pure unbridled fury. Sans shrinks away from him lifting his arms to cover his head. “Don’t! Please I’ll-“  
Papyruses hits him again, this time it connects with his jawbone, snapping his head backwards. Once again sending him to the floor. Boss suddenly turns away from him and walks to the kitchen leaving Sans alone. Lying on their scratchy rug, cradling his jaw, it suddenly hits Sans that he needs to get the fuck out of there, now. He’ll come back when Boss has calmed down a bit. Part of him is scared it’ll get him in even worse trouble, but he’s seen his brother look at him that way before, with no emotion, no personhood, just white hot fury, and it rarely ends well. He’s pushed himself to his feet and has reached the front door when Boss re-enters the room. his expression is empty, Papyrus has left the building, his brothers been replaced, with this terrifying compassionless thing. Clutched in Boss’s hand is a heavy wooden rolling pin. his eye lights burn into Sans. Sans jumps, turning his back to the door, and trying, embarrassingly poorly, to pretend he hadn’t just been trying to leave. Papyrus crosses the room in four long steps, staring down sans in a way that makes his soul shrivel into itself and bodily slams his fists into the door either side of sans’ head. still clutching the rolling pin. Sans flinches, Papyrus puts his face very close to sans’. Sans feels his breath on his face.  
“You think you can fucking run from me, after what you pulled today” he speaks in a low vicious hiss.  
“I’m sorry B-Boss, I’m s-so sorry, it’ll never happen again I swear to the fuckin’ stars above it, it’ll n-never happen again, don’t hurt me, please just don’t fuckin’ hurt me again” Red voice breaks.  
Papyrus looks unmoved. Almost bored. He watches Sans for a moment a strange calculating Expression on his face then roughly grabs him by the shoulder leading him, half dragging him to the kitchen, where he pulls out a chair from their little table and gestures for sans to sit, which he does. Boss remains standing. He puts the rolling pin down infront of sans.  
“Put your hands on the table.” Sans instinctively pulls his hands closer to his chest, leaning away from papyrus like a nervous dog waiting to get kicked.  
“No, n-no, no b-boss please come on I w-was there I was w-working it’s just a fuckin’ drink” Papyrus slowly picks up the rolling pin. Sans feels borderline hysterical.  
“No! Don’t do that, Come on. I’ll never drink again I’ll n-never touch a fuckin drop I swear I swear on asgores fuckin throne”  
Papyrus Grabs him by the wrist and starts to pull sans right hand forward over the table  
“No, no! D-don’t! Please! Please boss please I’ll do f-fuckin’ anything I’ll-“  
Papyrus raises the thick solid rolling pin then swings it down on the back of his hand, Hard. the small solid bones crunch in ways they shouldn’t.  
Sans screams, sobbing and incoherently begging and struggling as papyrus lifts the pin a second time, on the second impact he hears a terrible crack that he feels through his whole body. He’s sobbing like a fucking child the third time papyrus raises the pin. he’s stopped trying to get away. when he feels his fragile hands crushed beneath the solid heavy cylinder of wood a third time he is blinded with all encompassing inescapable pain, he feels like a dying animal in a trap, his head screaming at him to get out, but he can’t. Something in him comes apart, crumbles, collapses in on itself. Red gives up. When Papyrus takes his other hand by the wrist and pulls it over the table Sans lets him. He feels he has left his body, like he was watching from afar. Papyrus repeats the process on his left hand one, Two, Three.  
Hits. Sans feels like he’s watching himself from across the room, watching himself beg for mercy pleading and sobbing, only watching as the rolling pin crushes his small phalanges, as one of his knuckles fractures. he feels like he’s watching a stranger. And it’s their pain. Not his. When Papyrus let’s go of his wrist Sans won’t look at him. Shaking and sobbing uncontrollably cradling his hands close too his chest.  
Papyrus takes Red by the jaw and turns his head up to face him. His sockets are black  
“Now Next time you reach for a drink, when you’re at your station. Now, you’ll remember what happens when you disappoint me. Now get out of my sight before I do something I regret.”  
Sans shakily gets to his feet leaning on the table with his elbow to push himself up, he turns his back on papyrus and wordlessly heads to his room, tears drying on his face. Body laced with pain, he finds himself here far too frequently. But it’s over now.


End file.
